Minnesota Bride

by Lisa Prysock

  Melody heard the conversation, but she was overcome at seeing her cousin. He’d grown so much since she’d graduated a few years ago. “Is this our dear Carlton? Look how you’ve grown, too! I think you’re taller than Brent and Donavan both. What are they feeding you here in these mountains?” she teased.

  Carlton laughed and looked down, still the shy one, and always the youngest of her male cousins. “Aw, shucks, Miss Melody.”

  “What gentlemen your sons are, Aunt Ruby!” Melody laughed with glee. She was so happy to see all of her Jenkins maternal cousins in one place. Ruby, her mother’s older sister, seemed even happier to see her all of her children in one place.

  “Cousin Melody, I want you to sit next to Frank and me in the wagon on the way to Blue Meadow,” Lavinia remarked, catching up with her and tucking her arm around Melody’s elbow. “I’m so happy we’re finally here, and by this time next week, I shall be married to my dashing Lieutenant Kilpatrick.”

  She wanted to say she would ride with her only if Mrs. Kilpatrick accompanied in the other wagon, but Melody clamped her mouth firmly shut.

  Chapter 4

  For, brethren, ye have been called unto liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but by love serve one another. Galatians 5:13

  * * *

  Blue Meadow Farm, at the base of a wide mountain called Rich Mountain, lay nestled at the top of a hill overlooking all of its fields. The farmhouse featured four bedrooms on the second floor, four large rooms on the first floor, two large attic rooms on the third floor, and a covered front porch with a porch swing. The nearest neighbor’s farm could be seen beyond their fields to the rear of the farmhouse. The neighbor’s house was even larger, and it had an equally pretty front porch. Melody wondered if the handsome farmer she’d seen living there before still resided in the house. She’d been sixteen when she’d last seen the neighboring farmer and his house. A lot could happen in five years.

  Lavinia and Melody were given the rear right-facing bedroom. From their window, Melody could stare out at the neighbor’s farmhouse and wonder about him some more. For some reason, this caused her to remember Ned, so she decided to try not to look out at the house owned by the attractive farmer who was probably married by now. Ned’s unrequited love only made her angry or sad when she thought about it. Lena and Eugenie took refuge in the bedroom in the attic above theirs.

  Brent, Donavan, Carlton, and Frank moved into the left rear-facing bedroom because it contained enough bunk beds for all of them. This left Uncle Edward and Aunt Ruby with a front bedroom, and Mr. and Mrs. Kilpatrick with the other front-facing bedroom.

  There weren’t any servants along, so they’d be doing all of the cooking, washing, and cleaning themselves, which meant all hands on deck. The plumbing wasn’t updated, either. Baths would take place in the barn, or the kitchen by the fireplace and behind a screen. Everyone would be required to use the outhouse, and there’d be plenty of hauling water from the red pump in the rear of the house, or the well in the front. Once a week, Brent and Carlton said they hired a local cleaning lady, Sarah, to help with the household duties. Thankfully, Sarah had prepared the house properly for their arrival. The beds were made with fresh linens, the dishes were clean and put away, the floors scrubbed, and everything had been dusted. A delicious stew waited for them, simmering in a cooking pot on top of the cook stove.

  However, Lavinia was in third heaven. The first thing she wanted to do was run out to the meadow where she envisioned their wedding ceremony would take place. She gathered up her calico skirts, grabbed Frank’s hand, and they took off down the stairs and outside to the meadow.

  At supper, later that evening, Lavinia sat beside Melody across from her beloved, a long table in the dining room with plank bench seating filled with cousins. “Do tell us about your travels to Europe and about meeting Lincoln, Cousin Melody. We want to hear every detail, and you’ve hardly mentioned either.” Lavinia had always been good like that, drawing Melody into conversations to keep her connected to her maternal relations.

  “You’ve met Abe Lincoln?” Brent stopped passing a platter heaped with fried chicken and stared at her.

  “What was he like? What did he say about Fort Sumter? Is he really going to free the slaves?” Lena inquired as she scooped a spoonful of potato salad onto her plate.

  “Do tell us everything, Melody. We are all ears,” Aunt Ruby encouraged.

  “You were in Europe, child?” Mrs. Kilpatrick held firmly onto the salt shaker she was passing to her husband while Mr. Kilpatrick tried to pluck it from her hand. “Did you see Westminster Abbey, Kensington, or Buckingham Palace?”

  Melody laughed at the rapid fire of questions all aimed in her direction, choosing to answer Mrs. Kilpatrick’s questions first since she was a family guest. “Yes, we saw Westminster and Buckingham. Westminster is very stately and has a beautiful courtyard. Buckingham has ornate gates leading to it and a fountain in front. I could have stayed there all day simply enjoying the beautiful park nearby. Kensington Palace also has a park. We took walks there every single day while we were in London. Lincoln was wonderful. He is tall and kind, very warm, and serious indeed about the war. If anyone can free the slaves and bring an end to this atrocity, I believe it will be him. He is under a great strain with what he is facing, I believe.”

  “What was the White House like?” Lavinia asked.

  “Well, from Lincoln’s private study, you can see the Potomac River and the Washington Monument. There’s an old mahogany writing desk in one corner, and a smaller one by the windows with many stacks of papers all over it. Two sofas and a few chairs are the main pieces of furniture, but I do remember a large walnut table in the middle of the room for cabinet meetings, piled high with books and maps.”

  “You were able to view his private study?” Eugenie inquired, her mouth agape.

  Melody nodded before continuing. “There’s a portrait of Andrew Jackson over the fireplace, and a photograph of English reformer John Bright on the wall. Gas lighting fixtures and the fireplace keep it warm. There’s a kind of secret door leading to his private family sitting room where Mama had tea with Mrs. Lincoln and his son, Tad, and then we joined them.”

  “You met Mrs. Lincoln, too?” Mrs. Kilpatrick’s eyebrows rose.

  Melody nodded again. “Yes ma’am.” Then she added, “And with Mr. Lincoln, you have the sense he is a true gentleman when you’re in the room with him.”

  On the following Saturday, the circuit minister arrived to conduct Frank and Lavinia’s wedding ceremony. Frank would be reporting for duty in one week’s time and would only have a few days after the nuptials to be with his bride. The thought of them being separated nagged and gnawed at everyone’s nerves, but there was nothing to be done about it. Even Mrs. Kilpatrick seemed more subdued than usual as they exchanged their vows beneath a wild grapevine at the edge of the woods. They’d decorated the bough, intertwining it with silk bows and ribbon.

  Lavinia looked radiant, the sun shining in her brown hair. She wore a simple pale blue silk gown over her crinoline with cream rosettes at her neckline, a thick band of white satin tied around her waist in a bow to one side. The gown featured a bustle of layers of cream silk trimmed in blue ribbon cascading to the ground into a three-foot train. With Eugenie’s help, Melody had braided her hair with blue and white silk ribbons, coiling the braids into a fashionable style. Aunt Ruby gave her a pair of pearl bobs to wear, and Mrs. Kilpatrick had given her a pearl necklace. Melody gave her a pair of white satin gloves for the occasion, and standing next to her groom in his blue officer’s uniform, Lavinia couldn’t have looked more beautiful or happier.

  After the ceremony, Mrs. Kilpatrick, Lena, and Aunt Ruby filled a table on the front porch with platters of ham and roast turkey. There were bowls of stewed tomatoes, lima beans, snap peas, and a dish of green beans with bacon, quartered potatoes, and onions. Plates of cornbread, biscuits, corn relish, jams and jellies, cake, fruit, and candies adorned the end of the tab
le. Uncle Edward brought out his fiddle after the delicious picnic on the porch. Her cousins and a few neighbors present, everyone ate and danced until they could dance or eat no more, and the moon rose in the sky, twinkling stars smiling down on the festivities.

  “May I have this dance?” The handsome neighbor she often thought of when she looked out her bedroom window bowed, waiting for her reply when the first song began to play. Uncle Edward had begun the first few measures of “Turkey in the Straw” as her cousins began lining up for a reel.

  Melody, surprised to see the gentleman farmer standing before her looking dapper in his morning suit, looked around in case he was speaking to someone else. “Dance?” she repeated. Because of their age difference, she hadn’t expected his attention after overhearing someone mention it once, but there was something about the handsome thirty-five-year-old neighbor which drew her to him. Twenty-one wasn’t so far from that, and she considered herself a mature twenty-one. The reaction in the room to their dancing would tell her if objections might arise.

  “The pleasure would be entirely mine if you would do me the honor, Miss Ramsey.” He stiffened, still waiting patiently for her reply.

  “Yes, yes, of course, I’d love to dance,” she stammered as memories of running into him on occasion during past visits to Blue Meadow flooded her mind, an eyebrow raised. “It is Captain Trumbull, Charles Ambrose Trumbull, if my memory serves me correctly, is it not?”

  “You have an excellent memory.” He extended his arm out toward her, his elbow bent to whisk her along to the dance floor. She smiled, latching on to his arm with one hand, and soon her white sprigged dress with the lavender flowers swirled out around her feet again and again amidst vigorous foot stomping and clapping.

  The festivities did not come to a close until well after midnight when Uncle Edward returned his fiddle to its box. The bride had even brought out her violin at one point to join her father in playing several medleys. When it was time for the wedded couple to climb the staircase to their attic bedroom, everyone gathered around and threw rice at them.

  At the end of the evening when Melody climbed the stairs weary and satisfied, she reflected upon the only problem with the evening. She must have danced with Captain Trumbull more than a dozen times, a scandalous fact not lost upon anyone, least of all, the elder Mrs. Kilpatrick and Aunt Ruby. Instead of fearing for her reputation among her cousins and the small gathering of a few Appalachian neighbors, she could only hum “Turkey in the Straw” once again as she slipped into her nightgown. So long as Celia Johnson didn’t appear in western Virginia at the base of Rich Mountain, she might have a dance partner on the next merry occasion.

  And what of the handsome farmer? He obviously liked her a great deal, and though attracted to him, she decided she mustn’t appear too eager. Ida’s warning not to appear “more than adequately” self-sufficient also swirled in her mind. What constituted “more than adequately” self-sufficient? She’d encountered him once when she’d been out riding and another time when she’d taken a walk in the woods, but he’d only waved and tipped his hat at her both times as she’d been afar off. It would be interesting to see what he might do on a subsequent encounter.

  Would Uncle Edward and Aunt Ruby have words with him because of his flagrant display of affection toward her before all of the wedding guests, the few that had attended? Would they object to their age difference? They hadn’t thus far, but then only what might ensue in the days ahead would tell. This thought caused her to lay awake for another few minutes, but exhaustion had set in and she succumbed to a contented sleep not long after, the cool linen pillowcase a relief to her cheeks, flushed and hot from a memorable night of dancing.

  Chapter 5

  Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert. Isaiah 43:19

  * * *

  Two afternoons hence, Captain Trumbull appeared at the front door inviting Melody to accompany him on a buggy ride, chaperoned of course, by Brent and perhaps Miss Lena or Miss Eugenie, he suggested. Had he enjoyed their dancing as much as she? So he hadn’t forgotten her. Had he been thinking of her the past few days as much as she had of him? These thoughts swirled in Melody’s rapidly beating heart as she held her breath, waiting for her aunt’s reaction.

  When Aunt Ruby didn’t respond immediately forthwith as she had answered the door, he continued. “Perhaps others might wish to accompany us as well, as an outing, if you will.”

  Seated on the wooden parlor bench with Eugenie, Melody heard all of it as she attempted to keep her head bent over her needlework. Had Uncle Edward paid him a visit, or had Captain Trumbull come of his own accord?

  There was no opportunity for her to find the answer to this concern presently as she heard Aunt Ruby reply, “Do come in, Captain Trumbull. You may ask Melody and the others yourself. They are all here, except for the newlyweds who are away on a walk.”

  Melody exhaled, nearly stabbing herself with the thread and needle in her hands. So her aunt would not object to his calling upon her. She wanted to throw her arms around Aunt Ruby and give her a great big hug for allowing the gallant man to enter. He was quiet, mysterious, tall, dark, and handsome. He was muscular and tan from working his farm, obviously unafraid of hard work. His vocabulary, impeccable. His manners, above average. His dark blue eyes, warm. His conversation, intelligent. He made her swoon in a way a young man like Ned never could. In addition, he was already an experienced officer, and she was sure she could be happy whenever he was around. Did he remember her from summers gone by when she was far younger?

  He stepped inside, stopping short at the door, his riding breeches tucked into his boots and short waistcoat unbuttoned to reveal a shirt made from white, likely homespun cloth, common in the south. “Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins. I did so enjoy your daughter’s wedding the other day, and the company.” On this note, Captain Trumbull looked for Melody and seeing her, settled his gaze in her direction for a moment.

  Melody rose from her seat, her cheeks burning a soft shade of bright pink from his compliment. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Captain Trumbull.” She managed to find her tongue and greet him warmly and graciously, drawing closer to him. When she reached him, she clasped his hands loosely. “Yes, we would all very much enjoy an outing.” Turning to Eugenie, she added, “Wouldn’t we?”

  Eugenie jumped up. “I’ll get my shawl. The mountain air will do us good. Are you coming, Lena?”

  “Indeed I am,” Lena replied, following Eugenie to fetch her shawl too, a broad smile on her face.

  Brent was already putting on his hat. “I’ll hitch up the wagon. Eugenie and Carlton can ride with me. Donavan can hitch up the buggy and ride with Lena.”

  A little while later, they were traversing over country roads, Captain Trumbull and Melody leading the expedition in his buggy. Their conversation was light and easy, and the few silences they shared were comfortable ones with so much beauty to view in rugged Appalachia. Three quarters of an hour later, they reached a creek and Charles pulled the buggy aside to allow the horses to drink, affording the party a chance to stretch.

  The group milled about for a time after a bit of walking along the creek, and eventually they each found a pleasant spot not far from the horses to sit beside the soothing sounds of the running water and converse.

  “How is your planting season going?” The Captain had found a tree trunk on the ground for him and Melody to sit upon. Everyone knew his question was directed at Brent, the eldest of the brothers at Blue Meadow.

  “It went well this year. The crops are in, but we still have some of the kitchen garden to finish.” Brent stared at the creek as he spoke, both of his hands on his knees as he leaned forward from his perch on a tree stump. “Carlton will have to manage without me.”

  “Why is that?” Donavan asked, looking up at Brent from his spot where he’d stretched out on a grassy patch.

  “I’m going off to join the
cause,” Brent announced. “Leaving with our new brother, Lieutenant Kilpatrick.”

  “Nay, brother! I cannot believe what my ears have just heard.” Eugenie sat on the grass too, her knees bent out and ankles crossed, her skirts billowing out around her to hide her unladylike style. Now, her mouth fell open.

  Carlton removed a long blade of hay he’d been chewing on from his mouth. “I’m afraid he’s telling the truth.”

  Melody glanced at Donavan as she drew in a deep breath, frustrated with this news. His expression appeared prickled because Carlton knew of Brent’s decision, but his older brother hadn’t confided in him. It made sense to her though. Donavan resided in Philadelphia year round, and the other two were in Virginia year round. Brent and Carlton had always been closer, and Donavan stood to inherit the mercantile one day.

  “Have you told Aunt Ruby?” Melody asked, aghast. The idea of her cousin going off to fight in the war effort tugged on her heart, too.

  “Not yet. I will,” Brent replied stiffly, still staring at the creek. His jaw was firm and his eyes like steel. Then his appearance softened and he relaxed, turning back to them all. “I’m sorry if I’ve put a damper on our outing. I hadn’t meant to. It just tumbled out of me, but you all should know.”

  “Mother won’t like it,” Donavan finally said, a scowl on his plump face. He’d always been the heavier one among her maternal cousins since he didn’t work a farm, preferring to manage the general store back home in Philadelphia. He’d had to hire someone to fill in while they were away.

  “I know,” Brent muttered. “I’m counting on you and Carlton to remain out of the war effort and keep her strong.”

  “We’ll do our best, brother.” Carlton looked a little on the bewildered side of things. Melody figured he was under a strain, thinking of all the things he’d have to do to manage Blue Meadow without his older brother. “I can write her letters, when I have a chance.”